Do You Know it All?
Saying “I don’t know” is scary (as was looking out from the top of the Empire State Building). I’ve survived both (and actually thrived as a result)
Have you ever been asked a question and you didn’t know the answer? Probably, most of us have experienced that situation. How we respond, though, varies.
Imagine you ask your leader or manager a question (and they didn’t know the answer). Have you heard any of these responses?
They made up the answer.
They said, “I don’t know. Sorry I can’t help.”
They sent you to a colleague.
They replied, “I don’t know, but let’s sort this out together.”
When I pose this scenario to people, the number one response I get is that their leader made up the answer.
It’s not a good strategy. We can all see through someone’s made up bullshit. There may have been a time when we might have expected people to know everything, but that day has long since passed. In today’s world, where everything is happening so quickly, and being able to retrieve or access knowledge has surpassed the need to hold the knowledge, we need to learn to be OK with saying, “I don’t know.”
I learned this lesson when I was teaching. For the most part, I could outsmart the young teenagers I was teaching (especially in my core subjects). As many newer teachers experienced, though, I was teaching subjects outside those I studied in university. For the most part, I could stay a couple steps ahead of them, however, sometimes they’d ask me a question which stumped me.
“That’s a great question! I don’t know the answer, but let’s see how we can find out” became a go to response.
I was scared the first couple of times those words came out of my mouth (I’m not a great liar or bullshitter, so honesty seemed the better alternative). What happened next, however, surprised me. Craziness didn’t erupt in my classroom. They didn’t look at me like I was an idiot (nor did they say it out loud if they were thinking it). They generally just accepted the response and we talked about how we could move forward together in our quest for the answer.
And actually, I believe my honesty and vulnerability created a stronger relationship, and that they respected me more. That said, in order for this to work, I had to have some credibility and I couldn’t say “I don’t know” to all their questions, but because I had built a strong relationship with my students and there was respect developed, the times I needed to utter those scary words, I could.
I often hear about leaders who are unwilling to say, “I don’t know,” and while there was a time when those words were likely not acceptable, they are today. That same advice holds true for team mates.
Patrick Lencioni writes,
“Remember teamwork begins by building trust. And the only way to do that is to overcome our need for invulnerability.”
Saying “I don’t know” is scary and extremely vulnerable; it is also very humanizing.
In Lencioni’s The Five Dysfunctions of a Team model, he puts trust as a base layer of the pyramid and defines trust as “the confidence among team members that their peers’ intentions are good, and that there is no reason to be protective or careful around the group. In essence, teammates must get comfortable being vulnerable with one another.” (p. 195) He further writes, “[i]t requires team members to make themselves vulnerable to one another, and be confident that their respective vulnerabilities will not be used against them. The vulnerabilities I’m referring to include weaknesses, skill deficiencies, interpersonal shortcomings, mistakes, and requests for help.” (p. 196)
Admitting we are wrong, or don’t know all the answers, are elements of the vulnerability Lencioni claims are a basis for trust.
Brené Brown describes vulnerability as “not winning or losing. It’s having the courage to show up when you can’t control the outcome.” (Dare to Lead pp. 19-20).
Do you have that courage to say, “I don’t know?”
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